Wondering Eyes
by ninjaotta
Summary: Every day, every hour, every moment spent training has led to this. To receiving a charge to watch over. To wings, and midnight briefings from Paradise, and a free life among humans. Mircalla is ready to face it all. There's just one thing she could never have counted on. AU.
1. Chapter 1

"_Wondering eyes need no disguise._

_It's obvious that this love never dies._

_Never dies."_

_~Guardian Angel, Abandon All Ships_

She could feel her gut twisting with nerves. The doorways she passed all seemed blurred together, until the one she needed jumped out in front of her:

_Deaziel_.

The angel in question lifted cold eyes to her as she opened the door, motioning for Mircalla to sit. The chair was small; uncomfortable. Then again, Mircalla mused, that was likely the point. Deaziel was cold, cruel and strict. Many potential guardians had backed down and switched to another course, like Seeing and Visionary Studies, in the face of having to work with Her Disapprovingness.

Not Mircalla. She had her sights set on an Archangel Scholarship, which required Guardianship experience if she was to even think of applying. No disapproving senior angel was going to scare her off.

"You applied for a Guardianship placement, correct?"

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here," Mircalla replied lazily. "But yes, I did."

Deaziel's eyes narrowed coldly.

"You are intending to remain in Guardianship under my tuition for the duration of your charge's life and beyond?"

"Yes, to the first; no to the second. Guardianship isn't my one-and-done, I'm afraid."

Understanding flickered dimly in Deaziel's eyes.

"You intend to apply for the placement on the Archangel Scholarship under the tutelage of Lord Raziel?" she enquired.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"You have a sharp tongue, fledgling," Deaziel snapped. "Perhaps that loud mouth would be better suited to Heralding and Messenger Responsibilities."

"With all due respect, Deaziel, I think I know how to run my life," Mircalla growled. "Will you accept me or not; I'm not here to have my time wasted and there are other places I could go."

Deaziel studied her for a moment, as if debating whether her threat was genuine. Then, apparently satisfied, she reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled out a file.

"You have commendable credentials as a student, Mircalla," she conceded, tapping the file. "This is some basic information; your charge and the details of your placement and human identity should be sent through within the week."

"Thank you," Mircalla took the file, curling her fingers around it and smiling thinly. "I look forward to working with you."

"Keep up the attitude you showed today and you'll soon wish you'd transferred," Deaziel snapped.

"We'll see," Mircalla smirked as she stepped out of the office. "We'll see."

* * *

Deaziel didn't lie: four days later, Mircalla received a large manila file with all the details of her new life as a human. She was to start in two months, a few weeks past the beginning of the new school year, and adopt a new name for her new life.

"Creative," she muttered, staring at the anagram of her name printed on the page. "I hope this works out..."

* * *

The next two months passed in a haze of last-minute training, rules on flying drilled into her head for when she was finally given her wings, and choosing how to live and act and be once she had entered the human world.

"You know, being an asshole isn't so bizarre in humans," Mircalla glared across at the smirking figure in the doorway, his eyes dancing with amusement at his joke.

"Being a pathetic suck-up is also a plausible human personality, so you needn't change at all, Will," she snarked, swinging her bag onto her shoulder and straightening. "I take it you've come to tell me something with smug satisfaction, only to find out I already know?"

"Well, if you must know –"

"Save it, Will. I know we're getting our wings today. I talked to Deaziel last night."

"Fine," he snapped. "What do you reckon yours will be like?"

"Big and feathery," she muttered, stalking past him into the corridor. He fell into step beside her as she reached the stairwell, still grinning irritatingly.

"Besides that. Like, what colour? Will they have stripes? Spots? Black or white or green? What shape?"

"You spent all night wondering what your _wings_ are going to look like?" she snapped, unable to believe it. He was an asshole: why would he be daydreaming about flying?

"I wanna look impressive; don't you?"

"One; we won't have our wings for most of our time on the ground and two – I'm impressive enough without wings."

"Touché," he said, and shut up.

_Finally_, she thought, as the pair of them spotted ten of the other Guardian Fledglings waiting for them to arrive. Eventually, all sixteen of them were assembled, a mirror placed in front of each, and Deaziel stepped forward to greet each of them and bestow a pair of wings and a new identity upon them. Mircalla could feel her heart pounding high in her chest, clamouring like a struck gong in her lungs.

Deaziel reached Will, ninth from the end, and Mircalla forced herself not to flinch as she felt the heat blaze from his form as he received his wings.

Deaziel paused in front of her, and she stared up into those cold, unfeeling eyes, steeling herself for the imminent fire under her skin that some of the older angels had described.

"Mircalla," she said. Mircalla tilted her head upwards as the moment of truth approached. Deaziel's fingers made contact with her forehead and Mircalla felt white-hot acid pain run in burning rivulets under her skin. It was almost as if her skin were rising away from her bones, the feeling of her body unfurling from itself as gleaming feather shafts lifted from nowhere, wings unfolding effortlessly as the pain faded and the feeling of cool, rippling water over her shoulder blades replaced it.

The sensations eventually subsided and Mircalla opened her eyes. Deaziel had moved on down the line, and Mircalla flexed her new wings and raised her head.

The mirror placed in front of her greeted her as she stared at her own reflection.

"Hey, Carmilla."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: For those of you who read this story beforehand, you will realise I'm re-uploading it. Nothing drastic happened, just a few typos and bits and pieces that wouldn't fix for me. Thank you for everyone who read this, I should be updating daily but we'll see how things pan out. Updates should come regardless of how many reviews I get, but they would be nice.**

* * *

Carmilla pulled her bag a little higher on her shoulder. The dorm was just a few more doors further down, and in it was her charge. She knew everything she needed to: the girl's name, her curious nature and slightly awkward personality; her protective father and a mother she lost at the age of nine. She's seen pictures, researched old addresses to get the impression she needed before settling in as the girl's new Guardian angel. She closed her eyes as she stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath as she recalled the flight – or rather, fall – down to Earth.

* * *

_The wind snarled around her as she stared over the edge of the precipice. A girl with silver hair, tattooed arms and piercing blue eyes set her jaw next to her. To her right, Will gritted his teeth. Carmilla said nothing. She looked out and understood this flight was possibly the most important she'd ever make, and the first major one any of the fledglings had undertaken. Get it wrong and there could be some serious injuries on hand._

_Will was – annoyingly – coming with her. They were both being sent to Silas University in Styria, Austria, to meet with – and room with – their charges. Will had some over-muscular human-who-was-really-a-puppy. Carmilla had a girl she had to watch over and take care of. Everything would be sent down as luggage later on, but she had to fly down to Earth herself, and that meant a terrifying two hundred foot drop through screaming winds before she reached the boundary between worlds, which was, in short, a gigantic kitchen sink plughole._

_They sure knew how to get young fledglings to think on their feet – well, wings. Deaziel stepped up behind them._

"_You're going to have to jump, I'm afraid. The sooner the better."_

_Will glared about himself, as if daring anyone to push him. Someone behind Carmilla stifled a cough. The girl with the silver hair lifted her wings, the sharp, curved edges and russet-brown feathers gleaming, and leapt over the edge of the precipice, eyes closed and face tense._

_For a moment, the others waited in silence._

_Then, a sudden upwards burst of wind sent them all stumbling backwards, and the girl rocketed upwards, wings spread and hair wild. Carmilla stared up in amazement._

"_I knew it couldn't be too hard," muttered Will._

"_If it was so easy, why didn't you do it yourself?" she snapped back. Without waiting for him to reply she spread her wings, feeling the silky black feathers lift behind her, and stepped over the edge._

_For a sickening half-minute, she was falling through nothingness, unable to orientate herself and having to force air into her lungs as gusts tore at her from all sides. Then, just as quickly as it began, all the sensations stopped as her open wings caught a powerful updraft that sent her spinning upwards through the turbulent air, everything inside her alive._

_She caught sight of the first jumper out of the corner of her eye, the curved red wings unmistakeable, and saw Will's plumage – deep, speckled slate-grey – go hurtling past her as he jumped too. Mist whipped past her, the cold almost singeing her skin, but she couldn't bring herself to care as the thrill of flying coiled and uncoiled relentlessly inside the once-empty cavern of her chest._

_Deaziel's voice cut through her thoughts, her mentor hovering in a still patch of air to her left._

"_All of you get over yourselves! Flying isn't a game and you have places to be. The boundary will be opened shortly and I doubt anyone wants to get left behind!"_

_Light blazed from beneath her as she finished, and like moths to a flame the new Guardians gathered in the still air above the boundary._

"_It's open. You may go now."_

_Carmilla snorted as, with one last scowl, Deaziel soared away, back to the cliff they had all leapt off just minutes ago._

"_Best of luck, then!"_

_Carmilla twisted to see a grinning face with too-green eyes and messy blue hair before a former classmate dived past and was gone, the brilliant light swallowing her. The others began to follow: the silver-haired girl dove in and Carmilla, not wanting to be last, tucked in her wings and dropped into a gannet-dive, praying she'd chosen the correct manoeuvre as the winds twisted around her._

_The light grew brighter and brighter, until finally she felt a powerful force catch her and drag her in, spinning her round and round and spitting her out at the end, leaving her thrilled and breathless and staring out across broad expanses of blue sky and green earth and lapis-lazuli oceans._

* * *

That had been two days ago, and now she had landed, recovered from her heart-stopping flight and finally put all the lessons on hiding her wings into practice, she was ready to meet her charge at last. She swallowed the irregular pounding of her heart and pushed the door open.

"_Um, excuse me, but who the hell are you?"_


	3. Chapter 3

"No, come on now..._please_? Just – stay upright whilst I turn you on and – _ugh_! Why can't the batteries ever stay in?!"

The tiny blonde girl was alone in her dorm, fiddling with her camera and trying to get it to remain both upright and in one piece. So far, no luck.

"Right," she muttered, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration. "If you just – _no_!" she shouted as the batteries clattered to the floor again. A girl with slightly wild red curls poked her head round the door.

"Need a hand?" she asked. Laura craned her neck round to look at Perry, unwilling to move her hands in case she dropped her camera.

"No – no, thanks, Perry. I'm all good in here. Just...trying to set up my webcam, but I think I've got it now."

"You sure?" Perry asked, peering further into the room.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks for asking, though," Laura smiled over her shoulder, and Perry offered a smile in return before retreating, closing the door behind her. Turning back towards the camera, Laura let her head drop with a sigh. "Right, one more try..." she muttered, before her head shot up.

Abandoning the camera to let it thud onto the desk, Laura burrowed into one of her as-yet-unpacked suitcases and began dragging clothes about in search of –

"Aha!" she crowed in triumph as she held up the roll of Sellotape like a trophy. Scrambling over to the desk, she picked up her stubborn camera and bound shut the little plastic square that was supposed to hold the batteries in. Then she set about mounting it on the desk and hooking it up to her laptop.

"Aaaaanndd...Done!"

Laura sat back, admiring her webcam newly set up on her desk in her dorm.

"_Lau-raaaa_?" her roommate Betty burst into the room, eyes bright and blonde hair swinging wildly. "What're you doing?"

"Betty!" Laura spun in her chair, smiling. "I'm, uh, doing a journalism project. Just setting up to get started tonight. How'd you do?" she asked, remembering the grade her friend had been going to receive.

"62%," Betty grinned, bouncing down on her bed. "Not bad, I'd say. Gentlewoman's C."

"That's awesome!" Laura forced herself to grin, knowing that Betty's love for partying was probably the main reason why her roommate hadn't got a higher mark. As much as she loved Betty, she wished that the blonde girl would take a little more time to think about her schoolwork every once in a while.

"You _do_ know what that means though, don't you?" Betty chirped, bouncing off her bed and dashing to the wardrobe. "It means we should celebrate!"

"Betty..." Laura started, but she was cut off.

"No-no. Come on. We're going to have a little fun, you and me," she beamed. When Laura still looked reluctant she rolled her eyes. "Come _on_, Laura. It's six pm. On a _Friday_. If you don't get out of here soon you're going to get stuck to that chair like glue."

Laura sighed, smiling.

"Alright. What harm can it do?"

Betty squealed, seizing Laura's wrist and dragging her over to the wardrobe to start getting the pair of them dressed for their evening out. It took a while for Betty to find something suitable from the tame collection of clothes Laura's dad had allowed her, but eventually the pair of them were dressed up and on their way out, Betty practically dragging her roommate by the hand as Laura became increasingly nervous as they neared the party.

"Come on, Laura, it'll be fine," she shouted over the music. "It's like you said: what harm can it do?"

* * *

Three hours later and Laura was feeling slightly less nervous. The food was good and, though she knew better than to try the punch, everything seemed to be going smoothly: people were dancing and talking a laughing; the Alchemy Club hadn't mutated anything yet, although you were never quite sure what they _had_ been doing; and Betty was having the time of her life for the fifth night in a row.

Sitting on the sidelines to avoid getting trampled, Laura was starting to feel glad that she'd accompanied her roommate to the party. College was, in its most basic form, an experience. She should have a bit of fun; step outside her comfort zone once in a while. The Summer Society and the Zeta-Omega rivalries were burning brightly, but despite the natural friction between the groups no fighting had broken out yet.

No-one had inexplicably mutated from consuming the refreshments being served by people who were suspected members of the Alchemy Club.

No-one had been shot, or stabbed, or assaulted, or – well, anything, really. It seemed for all the world like a normal party full of young people doing stupid, fun things.

Then the sky split open and people started screaming.


End file.
